Learn to be Lonely
by Forever Hopelessly Yours
Summary: A story about loss and new hope. Erik must learn to live without Christine, but he must also accept the last gift she ever gave him.
1. Introduction

**Introduction**:

Learn to be Lonely was one of my very first phics that I started on Aria and never got around to finishing. I know I have like three other stories I should be updating, but my muse is a fickle lover and won't come back to me, but instead is insisting that I rewrite and repost LTBL. This story is about Erik's struggles to live life without Christine and with the gift she gave him before she left. I hope you enjoy and as always, reviews are welcome. I appreciate criticism, of course, but negative flames will be deleted. So with that in mind, please continue and read my story!


	2. The Cycle Continues

**The Cycle Continues:**

I could hear so much. I heard her labored breathing, her moans and cries of pains, the gentle and encouraging words of the nurse, but more than anything I heard the frantic beating of my heart. It beat painfully against my chest, screaming for release, its beats coursing through my body before finally jumping out and reverberating through the empty hallway I paced like a madman. Suddenly, I heard nothing from behind the closed door. I stopped my pacing and quietly walked towards the door and placed the unmasked side of my face against the cool wood and listened for something, anything. All I heard was my heart. After a minute, maybe two, I heard the shrill shrieks of a babe, the happy words of the nurse and a tired laugh from my wife. The nurse was talking to my wife about something, and soon the newborn's cries had stopped. I heard footsteps start towards the door and I quickly backed away, trying to fix my rumpled shirt and make sure my mask was still secure and covering my face. When the door opened and the face of the midwife appeared, my heart stopped its wild beating for a second and my stomach clenched. She had the glimmer of tears in her eyes and her face was filled with sorrow.

"Monsieur, may I speak with you a moment?" Another set of warning bells went off. The happy voice I heard while she was with my wife was gone now.

"Could it not wait until after I see my wife and child?" I asked, trying to look around her and into the room where they waited.

"I'm afraid the matter cannot wait, and it concerns them both." She replied as she gently shut the door. She started down the hallway and into the living room. "I think maybe you should sit."

I looked at her for a moment, trying to ready myself for whatever news she had for me. My feet felt as if they had been rooted to the floor and I couldn't make myself move over to the couch and sit.

"Please, Monsieur, sit." She plead gently. I numbly felt my feet respond. The woman took a deep breath and started with her news. "Your wife gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She has your wife's eyes and hair," the woman paused, "and your face."

I felt the air rush out of my lungs. My face? I hadn't thought the curse God had given me would be transferred to my innocent child. I felt angry tears sting at the back of my eyes and I fought to keep control over myself.

"It isn't so bad; I believe she will be able to hide most of it with makeup and her hair once she gets older. I did a through check though; there is nothing wrong with her, health wise." The woman stopped and swallowed back some tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "I'm afraid your wife is not as healthy as your daughter. There were complications. During labor, she suffered from some internal bleeding. I'm afraid there is nothing I can do. She told me her mother also died in childbirth, I believe what she suffered was hereditary."

I felt the pieces of my life come crashing around me. Internal bleeding. With no way to stop it. That would mean. "Are you trying to tell me that my wife is going to die?"

The midwife's tears were streaming down her cheeks, uncensored. "I'm sorry Monsieur, I do not believe she will make it through the night."

I sat there. There was nothing else I could do. My wife, my little Christine, was dying. She was just twenty-two. I had only had five years with her, only three as her husband. I let out an agonized cry and cradled my head in my hands, my sobs flowing freely. I believe the nurse stood there awhile and let me fall apart. She offered no kind words, no 'I'm so sorry' or 'You will get through this.' I managed to get my sobs to soften slightly and I lifted my cursed face from my hands.

"May I go see her?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

The nurse wiped her cheeks and nodded. "She already knows what's happening to her. I'll take my leave for the night, there is nothing left I can do now." I could hear the guilt in her voice, and I wanted to tell her I did not hold her responsible, but I couldn't form the words in my mouth. Instead, I just nodded my head and slowly made my way towards the room my wife lay dying.

---

I opened the door as silently as possible and my breath caught in my throat at the sight that greeted me. Christine, my little wife, was wrapped all up in blankets, her face tired but happy, and her hair still damp with sweat from the labor she had just endured. At her breast she held the babe, our daughter, and it was happily drinking its first meal. It was exactly the sight I had pictured for long nine months, ever since I found out that Christine was carrying our child. Except, I had always pictured it to be a happy memory, one I would cherish for the rest of my life, instead I would have died three times over to avoid it.

Christine sensed I was there, she didn't look up but she smiled and called for me. "Erik, come see her. She's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

My feet carried me to our bed, and I sat carefully next to my wife, trying not to burst into tears again. She looked up at me, her dark eyes tired, but still filled with adoration and love. "What do you think about the name Lynette?"

"It's a fine name." My tone was lifeless, and I couldn't bear to look at my wife in the eye, much less the child that continued to suck away at her life and energy.

"It's a beautiful name. Lynette Draper." Christine seemed pleased with herself and she looked back down at the small bundle in her arms. "Would you like to hold her? She's done eating now."

I wanted to say no. I didn't want to hold the little Angel of Death. I didn't want anything to do with it. If I could I would have gone back in time and prevented ever allowing Christine to become pregnant. But I didn't say any of that, of course. I knew she wanted me to hold her so I nodded my head and allowed her to place the thing in my arms.

I had to move the blankets a little to see its squished face. Sure enough, it would have Christine's dark curls, I could already see a few little wisps at the top of its head. I didn't know how the nurse knew it had Christine's dark brown eyes, they were all crunched up and closed. Her face was also ruined, like mine, but not nearly as bad. Most of her scars and tissue deformity seemed to be by her hairline and around her ear, just a few angry little scars pulled at her right cheek.

As I continued to look at the thing, I felt more and more contempt grow in the pit of my stomach. I needed it out of my arms before it sucked the life out of me as well. It was supposed to be a blessing to me and my wife, but God had delivered me a curse instead. I got up and quickly placed it in the bassinet I had lovingly constructed for it so many months ago.

Christine must have noticed something was wrong because she started to cry and called me back to her as soon as I placed the demon in the bassinet. "Oh Erik, please don't."

I turned quickly and rushed back to her side. "Don't what? Its asleep, it'll be fine in there." I picked up her little hands and kissed her knuckles, unsure what I had done to upset her.

"No, no not that! You hate her, you blame her! You can't even say her when you talk about her! I knew you would do this, when the nurse told me what was happening, I knew it!" Christine was now sobbing heavily and had taken her hands from mine to cover her face. "It's not her fault! I knew all along that I could die if I had a child, Madame told me when we first got married. But I didn't care, I wanted a child, I wanted to have a family with you."

I felt an icy sickness settle around me when she said that. She knew. She knew and had never told me. She had let me impregnate her, and in a sense she knew I was going to kill her. "Why, why did you never tell me?" I was whispering to keep myself from screaming.

She looked up and me with her tear-stained face and pulled me closer so that she could lean against my chest, something she often did when she was scared. "Because I knew you wouldn't ever let me have a baby. You would marry me and be afraid to touch me. We would have never made love because you would be too afraid I would become pregnant. I didn't want our marriage to be like that. I wanted it to be happy and normal and filled with love-making, just like every other marriage should be.

"Please don't blame yourself, Erik. I know you will, just as you will blame Lynette. I'm not sad that I had her. I'm sad I won't get to raise her, to stay with you and watch you love her. You'll have to love her enough for the two of us. Don't let her be raised as you were, never feeling the warmth of a hug or the joy of a bedtime story. I want my child to grow in love and happiness, not like I did, with loneliness and sorrows. Teach her to be smart, so she won't make silly mistakes like her mother. Please? For me?"

I was crying too hard to actually say the words, but I nodded and gripped Christine in a fierce hug, my salty tears flowing down into her curls. "What do I do without you Christine? How do I live? How do I raise her without you?" I choked out finally.

Christine pulled away from me just enough so she could look up at me. She pulled off my mask, I had only put it back on because the nurse had come, and kissed both my cheeks. "Darling, I'll still be with you. In every quiet moment, in the first rain of the springtime, and when the wind blows on a hot summer day. Every time a flower blossoms in our garden, I'll be there." She leaned up and kissed me, and I could taste her tears on her lips.

When we pulled away I knew her time was quickly coming to an end. The color was starting to drain from her face, and she pulled the blankets tighter around her as she started to shiver. I made sure my arms were tight around her, and she placed her head against my chest and closed her eyes.

"Husband, sing me the song you sang the first night we met. The one about the night."

I knew her request just confirmed what I already suspected. She was falling asleep, and she wouldn't wake up. "Anything for you, my Wife." I took a few gulps of air to try and clear myself of the tears, then I started to sing the lullaby that would now become her dirge.

As the last note faded from my voice, so did my Christine's life. I gripped her body to mine and cried. She had given her life so that another may live. The damned cycle of life had continued.


	3. An Angel Cries

**An Angel Cries:**

_Her kisses were maddening, her unsure touches blazing, her little moans and gasps of pleasure enough to send me over the edge of insanity. My mind was screaming for me to slow down, stop even, but my body was driven on by the way she pressed her body against mine and from the lust-filled looks she gave me when we pulled away from our fervent kisses just long enough for air._

_I could not remember how, or why, our wild tango had started, but it carried us from the parlor room into Christine's bedroom, and now onto her white feather bed. She was under me, pulling my body against hers, just like the many fantasies and dreams I had for so many years. Still, a part of me wanted to stop. It was screaming at me to stop! 'Stop taking advantage of her!' 'She doesn't know what she's doing!' 'She'll hate you if you continue!'_

_I abruptly pulled away and walked to the other side of the room, turning my back on a confused Christine._

"_Erik? Did I? Did I upset you?" Her voice was startled, but it still held a husky undertone._

_I tried to speak, but my voice was too clouded with lust to form any words, so I merely shook my head. Upset me? How could she?_

"_Then, why? I thought…" Her sentence faded off, I knew she was too ashamed to say what almost slipped out. 'I thought this what you wanted from me.'_

_I took a deep breath and tried to calm my erratically beating heart back to how it was beating before the passion play between Christine and I had started. "We have to stop now, Christine. If we continue, I'm afraid…" I paused. How could I say what I was afraid of without sounding like some kind of animal? "I'm afraid I would hurt you."_

_She didn't reply. I could hear her skirts rustling as she got up from the bed, and then I heard her tiny footsteps as she walked over to where I stood. I tried to avert my eyes as she stepped in front of me, but I failed. The site made me gasp for air and another wave of longing course through my body. Her face was flushed and her lips swollen from our kisses. The pins that had secured her hair had fallen and her chocolate curls were falling around her face and shoulders. And her eyes, they still held the same look of yearning as they did earlier. _

"_My sweet Erik, you could never hurt me." She took a step forward so she could wrap her little arms around my neck. I closed my eyes as she pulled me down so she could whisper in my ear. "I'm not so naïve as to not know what happens in situations like these." She placed a few kisses on my neck just under my ear and I felt chills run down my spine. "I love you Erik. I want this. Please?"_

_I never responded. As soon as the word 'please' had left her mouth, I covered it in my own. I felt her moan gently as I kissed her and led her back towards her bed._

_---_

_After our lovemaking was over, we both just laid there, our bodies covered in a thin film of sweat and our breathing ragged. I looked over at the beautiful creature next to me, her hair a mess and her chest raising and falling quickly under the cover she had pulled over both of us._

"_Christine…" I said her name quietly, unsure of how she would react to me._

_She looked over at me and smiled, but before I could take any comfort in her smile, I saw the glimmer of tears in her dark eyes. She must have noticed the look of terror on my face because she quickly shook her head and reached for my hand._

"_Before you get upset, I'm not sad. And you didn't hurt me very much at all. I-I'm not sure why I'm crying, but I know it's not bad." She laughed and snuggled up to me, placing her head on my chest. "I'm being silly. It's just, I…what if I lose you? I love you so much, I __**need**__ you so much…"_

_I wrapped by arms around my angel and squeezed her close to my body. She thought she needed me, I couldn't comprehend that. I was the one that needed her. "I love you Christine. You'll never lose me, I'm nothing without you."_

_I felt her kiss my chest and then place her head back down over my heart. "Good. Now get some sleep, you need to rest."_

_I cocked my eyebrow and looked down at the woman in my arms. "Do I? What am I resting up for?"_

_Christine raised her head and smiled at me. "Come on now, Erik. Did you think I wouldn't want to try that again later? It won't be any good at all though if you're tired."_

_I was awestruck, but I regained my composure as quickly as possible. "Mademoiselle, I can assure you that I am well rested."_

_Her bell-like laugh rang again as she leaned up to kiss me sweetly. "Well, monsieur, I am not as rested as you are. But later, I promise, I will be."_

_She laid her curls back down and I made sure that the covers were over both of us as we slowly drifted off to sleep._

_---_

"Monsieur, monsieur…" A voice was calling to me, pulling me back to the land of living, leaving the reverie of my first night with Christine to stay tucked away in my mind. I could feel Christine's cold body in my arms, but I refused to open my eyes. If I kept them closed then maybe I could force myself back, back when I held Christine's body after a night of passion.

A cry startled me and forced my eyes to snap open. My surroundings were familiar, but I felt disconnected. I looked to see what was making the hellish noise and my eyes fell on our one and only servant, a girl I hired by the name of Yvette to help while Christine was pregnant, and in her arms the demon screamed.

"Take that thing away." My voice was raspy and I almost didn't recognize it.

Yvette didn't move, she just stood there, gaping like a fish. I followed her eyes, they were fixed on Christine's lifeless form. I gently moved Christine to the pillow, my eyes lingering for only a second. She looked like she was sleeping, except her face was almost as pale as the white pillows beneath her face, and her rose-petal lips had faded. I placed a kiss on her smooth cheek; it felt like porcelain it was so cold.

"Monsieur…what? What happened to Madame?" Her voice seemed panicky. She and Christine had become close friends during the past nine months.

"That thing in your arms happened." My voice was calm. It surprised me. Perhaps it was the terror I saw in the eyes of the servant; it brought back a familiar sensation. I saw my mask sitting on the end table where Christine had put it earlier and I placed it back on my face. Another familiar sensation. I was The Phantom before Christine, Erik while she loved me, and now I would become The Phantom again.

Yvette suddenly dropped her gaze to the crying thing in her arms, sadness written all over her face. "Oh no…she told me her mother died birthing her…" She clutched the thing to her chest and whispered in its ears, trying to make it shut up. "Hush little angel…" She whispered to it and I sneered in disgust.

"Take it out of my sight, now."

The servant looked up at me briefly, and I saw the glimmer of tears on her cheeks. "Yes Monsieur." She said meekly as she walked towards the door.

I could hear the devil cry all the way down the hall. I turned back to the bed and sat next to my dead wife. My mind wandered back to the times I would watch her sleep at the opera house, and then in our marriage bed. She always looked so peaceful, and it comforted me slightly that she continued to look comfortable now, even in death. I could feel the stinging tears forming up behind my eyes and I tried to fight them off, but I couldn't. My tears poured out as I wrapped my arms around my wife's body, hugging it close to my chest, rubbing my masked face in her curls, just trying to save each and every detail of her in the cells of my skin.

"Why Christine? I told you, I am nothing without you. Why would you leave me?"


	4. Defenseless

**Defenseless: **

Now that Yvette and the demon had awakened me from my dreams, I had to face reality again. Once I managed to control my sobs, I looked down once more at the image of my wife and I felt bile rise in my throat when I noticed the deep red stain that had begun to seep through the covers, evidence of the demon's homicide. I carefully removed my arms from Christine's lifeless body and laid her back against the pillows as gently as possible so I could leave our marriage bed. I needed to call a priest and arrange for her funeral. Unfortunately, the only priest I knew was the one that married Christine and I, and he hadn't been very willing to commit Christine to a life lived with someone like me. Somehow, I doubted he would understand that I had not murdered my wife. _Not intentionally,_ a voice sounded in my head, _but it was you who planted the seed of death inside her._ I tried to shut out the voice, but I knew it was right. I was just as guilty as the babe. I leaned back over the bed and brushed my lips against Christine's cold brow as I whispered. "Please, forgive me."

As soon as I exited the room, I saw Yvette heading my way down the hall. The harbinger of death wasn't in her arms I noticed with some relief, but a set look of determination was etched into her face and that was nearly as bad.

"Monsieur! Monsieur! A word please?" She nearly ran to catch up with me as I made my way down the hall in the opposite direction. "Please? It will not take long…"

I continued to ignore the servant and soon I was at the door of my personal study. "I'm afraid I'm terribly busy, you see, my wife just died and I have to plan her funeral." I spat. I felt no remorse when I saw the effect my words had on little Yvette, in fact, a part of me felt good that my words could still drain the color from someone's face and leave them speechless. After no reply came from the girl, I entered my study and stalked over to my liquor cabinet. I had not opened it in a long time, so long in fact, that I could not actually recall the last time I had sipped any of its contents. Christine hated drinking, so much so that she considered anything more than a glass of wine at dinner alcoholism. Now, since she was not with me to still the voices that had started raging in my head, my old companion would have to do.

I poured myself a full glass of brandy and threw it back immediately, nearly coughing from the unfamiliar fiery sensation in my throat. After the burn had faded I poured myself another glass, and then another and I continued until I was too drunk to pour anymore into my glass, successfully. I tried to walk over to my favorite chair, and I managed to make it without serious injury, but I knocked into the liquor cabinet and an end table, giving myself what I knew would be a nasty bruise on my shin and sending a vase full of flowers to the floor. I paid no heed to the broken glass or spilt water though, but before I could even praise myself for seating myself in my chair, Yvette came crashing into the room.

"Are you alright!?" She was alarmed, but that seemed to fade when she noticed that I was safe, secure, and drunk in my chair and it was only the vase of flowers that had sustained any damage. "Monsieur, how much did you drink?" Yvette seemed to be eyeing the nearly empty brandy glass as if it was going to jump out and attack her. I wondered if maybe Christine was not so out there with her feeling on alcohol, perhaps all creatures of the fairer sex shared the same views on the substance.

"Oh not so much, there is still plenty if you want some." I mumbled out and then chuckled at my own joke.

Yvette didn't seem to share my humor though. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she placed the stopper back in my brandy bottle and returned it to its home in the cabinet. "No thank you. Now that you're not so busy, would you mind me telling you what I intended on telling you earlier?"

I remembered then how hesitant I was to hire Yvette. She was young, and bold, and when she saw my mask during her interview, she merely said, 'So Mademoiselle Daae married the Opera Ghost after all?' Of course, my Christine loved her unafraid attitude and demanded at once that Yvette be hired as her servant during her pregnancy. I should have realized then how annoying the outspoken servant girl was going to be.

During the silence that filled the room while I reminisced back to her hiring, Yvette continued. "You cannot blame your child for what happened to Christine."

Her words caught my attention and I titled my head towards her, my visible eyebrow raised. "Oh? I can't? I'm afraid you are not only out of line to say so, but you are wrong as well. I already _do_ blame it." I calmly stated, but I could feel my blood start to simmer in my veins.

"Then you sadden Christine's spirit! She gave her life for nothing then." Yvette declared as she stared me down.

I felt fury roar inside me like never before! I stood up and glared at the insolent girl before me. "Don't speak to me of Christine! She did not _willingly_ give her life! It was _stolen_ from her! I will not cuddle and coo to a murderer! The damned thing deserves to die for what it did!" I shouted so loudly my body shook, as did the small girl in front of me. My roars must have awoken the cursed thing I was talking about, because from down the hall I heard its wail start up.

Yvette seemed torn. Her instincts were telling her to go and tend to the crying demon, while the rest of her wanted to stay and defend it. "If what you say is true, Monsieur, then Christine is just as much as a murderer!" Yvette's voice shook, but she did not back down, and it infuriated me further. "Her mother died as well, remember? Should Christine have been killed as a babe, like you would condemn your own child?"

I paced the room, my anger so great I was nearly seeing red. I wanted to strangle the girl, as well as the crying babe down the hall. I wanted to throw them both against the wall so their necks would snap, but I wouldn't…I couldn't. A girl with kind eyes and an angelic voice had tamed the monster inside of me long ago. What would have happened to me if she had never gotten the chance to live? I would have lived out my pitiful existence underneath the Opera Populaire, killing and bringing havoc to others because I felt I had been wronged by the world.

"That child is a piece of Christine, the last piece you have. Instead of damning it, perhaps you should cherish it?" Yvette said with a calm voice, like she was talking me down from jumping off a cliff.

She was making too much sense. I roared and threw the closet object I had, a crystal paperweight at the wall behind her. She shrieked and ducked down as the object flew over her and crashed against the wall behind her. As the tiny shards fell down and tinkled to the floor she ran from the room, leaving me alone with the knowledge she had just bestowed upon me.

---

The effects of the brandy slowly wore off as the night continued, but the words Yvette had spoken were not so quick to leave my mind. I stayed in my study and sat, thinking of what she had said. I was supposed to cherish the thing that had killed my wife. But how? I kept trying to picture Christine as a babe, how had her father felt? How could he consider her a blessing after the price he had paid for her? I kept thinking back to the stories Christine would tell me of her father, how he had always loved her and doted on her and done all he could to protect her from any unhappiness. I felt my blood run cold as I remembered what she once said to me.

"_One time, when I was much younger, I asked Papa why he loved me so much. He had just bought me a new dress and I played outside and ruined it. He was so angry, but only for a moment, and then he went right back to loving me, and I didn't know how, or why, he did it. So I asked him why he loved my so much, when he answered he told me my mother made him promise that he would love me enough for the two of them. He told me he wasn't allowed to be angry at me for very long, because then he wouldn't be loving me enough, and he would be breaking his promise to Mama."_

Her dying words echoed in my mind. "Love her enough for the two of us." Her father had managed to love her enough for he and his wife, much more, according to the adoration and love Christine held for his memory. It was because of her father that Christine had become the woman that I had fallen in love with. If her father could see Christine as a blessing and love her, could I not do the same for my child?

I slowly made my way from my study and down the darkened hallways of my house. Yvette had left the candles burning low for me, but I did not need them. My eyes were still keen after all the years I had spent in the light. Finally, I reached my destination, the room Christine had designated as 'Baby's Room.'

I eased the door open as slowly as possible, my heart pounded like crazy in my chest as I did so. The moon was high in the sky and the silvery rays spilt into the room and lit it up so brightly that I could easily see everything in the room. I was surprised to find Yvette's sleeping form on top of the small white bed, but I realized she must have been sleeping in the room with the child because she had taken up the role of nurse herself. I silently walked over to the bassinet and gazed down into it.

I was amazed at the sight that greeted my eyes. I had only seen the child once, and I was unimpressed with her bruised and battered appearance, but only after a day or so there had been almost a complete transformation. Her face was not scrunched any longer, and although her eyes were closed with sleep, they were not squinted like before. Now it was only my deformity that marred the delicate face snuggled in the pink blankets beneath me. I raised a shaky hand and traced one of the little angry scars.

"Please, forgive me…" I whispered, surprised at how my throat had closed up. The babe stirred under my touch but didn't awaken. I had to blink a few times to fight off the tears as my mind wandered.

---

"_Darling, would you rather it be a boy or a girl?" Christine asked as she tenderly rubbed her swollen belly. She was nearing seven months and she still hadn't decided if she wanted a boy or a girl._

"_How many times must I tell you? I will be overjoyed no matter what it is. I have no preference."_

_Christine rolled her eyes and swatted across the breakfast table at me. "I think I would like a girl, so I could dress her up and have tea parties with her, but then I think I would like a boy, just like his father." She said and smiled affectionately over at me._

_I scoffed. "Be careful what you wish for, it may come true if you're not careful."_

_Christine leaned over and placed a kiss on my ruined cheek, something that still amazed me. "Oh, Erik, it wouldn't be so bad for him to be like you. You're kind, and generous, and loving…"_

"_Madame, you are much too kind." I said with a small smile._

"_But I would love to have a girl, so maybe Meg could teach her dance one day. And I could teach her how to sing, and you could teach her to draw!" Christine said happily. "That settles it! I want a girl!"_

"_Well, then I want a girl as well." I said, my smile growing larger as Christine's happiness grew._

_Christine became slightly more somber though. "Erik, will you promise me something?"_

"_Anything and everything, my dear." I said honestly._

"_Please don't wear your mask around her. I don't want her to ever think her Papa has any reason to hide who he is." Christine caught my eyes with her own and I knew she was looking at the fear reflecting in them. "She will love you just as much without your mask."_

_I didn't know how Christine could be so sure, but I couldn't deny her this wish, I could see how much it mattered to her. I took a deep breath and tried to settle my fears as I nodded my head. "Alright."_

---

I continued to look down at the sleeping child below me as I lifted my hand to remove my mask. The cool night air felt good against my heated flesh and helped dry the tears I hadn't known I started crying. She would never see my mask, just as Christine wished. I placed the white leather on the nightstand next to the bassinet so I could use both my hands and pick up the small bundle of blankets.

She was so light and small I was afraid I would break her if I held too tightly. I could feel her chest rise and fall as she slept and I was unable to control my silent tears. For long nine months, I had dreamt about this exactly. Nine months I waited to see the child I had felt kick and for nine months I had waited to see whose heartbeats and hiccups I had been listening to, and now, finally, I was. I had once heard that a father would fall in love with his daughter the moment he set eyes on her, but I had blocked my heart from finding any joy that night. Now my guard was down and I felt myself fall in love with the child I so carefully held in my arms. I was wrong to think she had stolen Christine from me; she was actually helping save her. I held in my arms the last piece of Christine I had, and I silently vowed to protect her, just as I promised myself all those years ago to protect Christine when I found her, orphaned and alone in the bowels of the opera house.

Soon the bundle in my arms began to wiggle, and then small whining sounds came from it. I knew she was getting hungry by the way she blindly searched for something to latch onto, but I had no idea what to do. I looked over at Yvette's sleeping form and noticed that she was also stirring from the noise the babe was making. I quickly, but carefully, put my child back in the bassinet and fled from the room, back to my study, not even realizing I had left my mask sitting on the nightstand.

Although I may have not noticed my missing mask, when Yvette go up to feed the babe with a bottle a wet nurse had left earlier in the day, she noticed immediately the white leather. She smiled and whispered to the babe in her arms. "There now, I told you that your Papa loves you."


End file.
